Again, she lifted her right hand, palm up. “Southerner”—and then her left—“Yankee.”

Sissy briefly crossed her eyes. “What are you talkin’ about?”

“We’ve been hired to distract you. Some Yankee lion waving ten grand with a promise of twenty. We figure we can have some fun with that ten, and she can shove the other ten up her Yankee ass.” Paula Jo looked Sissy straight in the eye. “She’s here for your man, Sissy Mae. And that crazy bitch isn’t going to stop until she gets him.”

“Hello?” Dee walked through the house and found the note on one of the living room end tables.

Went to diner for breakfast. Meet us there or at the field for the game.

—Sissy

Typical. Heifers didn’t even wait for her. Of course, she did suddenly disappear on them, and she knew Sissy didn’t care. That’s why she made a great Alpha—Sissy didn’t insist Dee spend every moment with her like most Alphas. Sissy understood her Pack and acted accordingly.

But Dee had heard about what had gone down between Sissy and Travis, and Dee hated the fact that she’d missed being there for her cousin.

And Travis deserved what he got as far as Dee was concerned. He made her glad she had no brothers or sisters of her own. Sure, you could get a Bobby Ray or Sammy, but you could just as easily get a Travis or a Jackie.

Figuring she’d already missed them at the diner, Dee decided to head on home until it got closer to game time. She went to the kitchen, and as soon as she stepped in, she caught the scent, her gaze automatically lifting at the same time as the .45 locked on her. Without thought, only years of training, Dee hooked her foot under the kitchen chair by her and kicked out, flinging the chair across the room. It slammed into the lioness, the weapon knocked from her grip.

The lioness stared at her weapon and then back at Dee. After a moment, her eyes widened as recognition dawned. “Well, well, how far we haven’t gone.”

Dee’s head cocked to the side. “I thought you were dead, Mary. They told us you were dead.” And that’s why Dee would never have thought of Mary as the shooter—she’d already looked into a few of her old comrades, but they were all definitely breathing and had alibis.

“As far as they’re concerned…I am dead. God knows, we weren’t making enough money at that job, considering what we had to do.” She flexed her gun hand, probably trying to work out the pain the chair had caused when it hit her. “So I decided to go out on my own. Make the big money. But don’t think you can get between me and my payday, little puppy. You were never that good.”

Dee didn’t have any of her guns, and the lioness’s gun had skittered under the refrigerator. Quickly flicking her gaze across the clean counter, Dee saw the knife block and a hammer hanging beside a couple of screw drivers. She went for the hammer. Knives were anightmare to fight with. Even though she could—hell, she’d been trained to, but she’d also been trained that it was an easy way to get a major artery cut.

By the time she swiped up that hammer, Mary had launched herself at Dee, a hunting knife in her hand. Dee turned her body, and Mary slammed into her side. Slamming the female’s hand down on the kitchen table, Dee cracked it with the hammer.

Mary unleashed a roar and shoved, forcing Dee into the counter. With the blade gone, the lioness wrapped her hands around Dee’s wrists. Dee slammed her foot down on Mary’s instep and slammed her head into Mary’s.

Yanking away from her, Mary shoved Dee again, this time into the kitchen table before she charged over it. Instinctively, Dee knew she had more guns outside and scrambled after her. Mary had just reached the old screen door when Dee tackled her from behind, the momentum of it forcing them through the door and out onto the porch.

“All right, so what’s going down?”

Mitch glanced over at Dez and frowned. “What’s going down about what?”

“You and Sissy? Man, Smitty is pissed. He called you a using bastard. Why?”

Sighing, Mitch stared back out the window. “Can’t you ask Sissy these questions? I’m a guy.”

“I get along better with men.”

“Then get it from Smitty.”

“He stormed away, and Jess went after him. Come on!” She practically bounced up and down in the seat. “Tell me! I’m a fellow detective. You have to tell me.”

“I can’t believe you’re throwing that at me.”

“By any means necessary.”

Mitch turned and glared at her. “That is not the proper use for that quote.”

“Tell me!”

“No. Suffer. And turn here.”

“Fine. I’ll ask Ronnie Lee.”

“Good. Do that.”

“And let me tell you, the whole no cell phone thing has been making me insane. I knew something was going on, and no one was telling me.”

“Shouldn’t you be focusing on finding my killer?”

“You ain’t dead yet. So get over yourself.”

Why did he like this woman? Maybe because she was strangely fascinating. Although waking up to that voice every morning…more power to Mace.

“The house is right up here.”

She turned and drove the short bit down the dirt lane. “I hear banjos.”

“Stop it. And I’m telling Sissy you said that.”

“Rat.”

They pulled to a stop in front of the house. Mitch looked out the front windshield. “I don’t think they’re here.” Which really disappointed him since he’d planned to take Sissy for a quickie in her bedroom or the bathroom. Whatever worked best for them in the moment.